Dol Guldur had buried countless lives in its shadow-stained stones, and because Sauron had disguised himself as the Necromancer here to study dark magic and evil sorcery, the death and malevolent aura saturating this place far exceeded that of Fornost in the North Downs.
The very air seemed to whisper with the voices of the long dead, and even the surviving stones felt cold to the touch, as if winter had taken permanent residence in their ancient mortar.
Kael chose an open platform overlooking the twisted spires and drew the intricate magical formation on its weathered surface, his fingers tracing each symbol with practiced precision.
Then he settled in to wait for midnight, feeling the oppressive atmosphere grow heavier as darkness deepened around the cursed fortress.
As the witching hour approached, he activated the formation with a surge of concentrated will.
The surrounding death aura gathered into the formation like invisible rivers of shadow converging on a dark lake. The barrier between the real world and Unseen Realm was torn apart by the magical circle, which became a bridge, or rather, a doorway between two worlds that should never touch.
Kael stepped toward the formation's center with measured steps and picked up the Morgul blade that served as his key to the realm of spirits.
The moment his fingers closed around the cursed weapon, reality shifted around him like a kaleidoscope of fading colors. The world lost its vibrant hues, becoming gray and gloomy, drained of life and warmth.
The solid objects around him became illusory and transparent, as if everything in the real world had become mere suggestions in the Unseen Realm, like looking at the world through layers of gauze.
Meanwhile, the surrounding spirits gained substance and terrible clarity, their forms solidifying into nightmare-made-manifest.
Kael wasn't surprised to encounter Unseen beings in this cursed place, but looking at the dense crowd of spirits surrounding him on all sides, he still couldn't help taking a sharp breath that misted in the suddenly frigid air.
The orcs, Olog-hai, wargs, and other evil creatures he had just burned to ash with Fiendfyre mere hours ago had all materialized as spirits around him, their forms still bearing the marks of their fiery deaths!
Normally, not all dead souls would enter the Unseen Realm immediately upon death. Most would be drawn to their proper destinations, whether Mandos' halls or simple dissolution.
What was this unprecedented situation about?
Kael was filled with growing doubt and sharp vigilance, his hand instinctively tightening on Flammifer's hilt.
Moreover, these newly dead spirits all had vacant, glassy stares for some reason, moving with the jerky motions of marionettes controlled by an unseen puppeteer.
Was it because they had just died, their souls still confused and disoriented?
Besides the spirits of evil creatures he had killed, there were many other Unseen beings that had long existed in this twilight realm. Many twisted spirits wandered the gray landscape, including humans, dwarves, orcs, trolls, and even elves, their forms warped beyond easy recognition!
These ancient spirits seemed to have suffered from prolonged exposure to evil sorcery that had twisted them like metal in a forge, making them grotesquely distorted and lacking any trace of rational thought. Their movements were erratic, predatory, and filled with mindless hunger.
Kael immediately guessed their tragic situation. These spirits must be the dead souls that Sauron, when disguised as the Necromancer, had secretly captured to experiment on and control with forbidden spells, turning them into weapons for his dark purposes.
For some unknown reason, these human, dwarf, and elf souls hadn't been summoned by Mandos' halls as they should have been but remained trapped in the Unseen Realm as tormented spirits, neither truly dead nor able to find peace.
These spirits had lost their reason entirely. Seeing Kael, a blazing beacon of living warmth in their cold realm, they immediately rushed at him with frantic desperation, clawed hands reaching out to tear and devour the precious life force that tantalized them.
But they were all blocked by the magical formation's invisible barrier, their grasping fingers meeting solid resistance just inches from Kael's face, unable to touch him despite their maddened efforts.
Not wanting to waste precious time entangling with these pitiful creatures, his hourglass already counting down the minutes until he must return, Kael took out his star-glass vial and released Eärendil's Light in a controlled burst to drive back the surrounding spirits.
The holy radiance cut through the gray realm like a sword of pure sunlight, causing the spirits to recoil with anguished wails.
Then he stepped out of the protective magic circle and began methodically searching everywhere for wisps of death essence, his trained eye scanning for the telltale dark mists.
To Kael's delight, this Unseen version of Dol Guldur held even more concentrated death essence than Fornost had provided.
Tendrils of pure death energy drifted like black smoke through the spectral ruins, each one a precious ingredient for his ultimate goal. Kael continuously collected the essence with his black obsidian bottle while using Eärendil's Light to constantly drive back the eager spirits that pressed in from all sides.
But as Kael continued his methodical harvesting, the surrounding environment suddenly became twisted and oppressive, reality warping like heated glass. A cold, suffocating, despairing aura spread outward from some unseen source, pressing against him with almost physical weight.
The surrounding darkness became like thick, undiluted ink, pressing and squeezing toward Kael's protective light, trying to snuff out the Eärendil's radiance in his hands like a candle flame in a hurricane.
Just then, a dark arrow suddenly shot toward him from the shifting shadows, its fletching humming with malevolent purpose.
Kael's enhanced reflexes kicked in, and he quickly drew Flammifer with his free hand, deflecting the incoming projectile with a shower of sparks.
"Morgul arrow!" Kael looked at the dark shaft embedded in the stone at his feet, his expression turning cold and grave.
This magical arrow was different from the crude Morgul arrows used by common orcs. It was a far more dangerous and poisonous weapon belonging to the elite Nazgûl, its very presence making the air around it seem to wither.
And from what he knew of the Nine, the Nazgûl most skilled in archery was Khamûl, former chief of the Easterlings, called the Shadow of the East.
Sure enough, as the lesser spirits automatically parted like water before a shark, Nazgûl Khamûl rode forth on a spectral horse that left no hoofprints on the gray ground.
The Nazgûl at this moment was far more real and menacing than any he had encountered in the physical world. He appeared tall and gaunt, like skin stretched over ancient bones, wearing a black cloak that seemed to drink in what little light existed in this realm. His decayed skin was pulled tight over his skull, and hollow, sunken eye sockets flickered with red hellfire that cast dancing shadows across his skeletal features.
The Nazgûl was surrounded by an aura of primal fear that made the very air taste of despair, breathing poisonous black mist with each exhalation. Evil curse-like whispers echoed around him in languages better left unspoken.
He held a bow made from some unknown bone that gleamed with eldritch power, his crimson eyes flickering with mocking light as he surveyed his trapped prey.
"Black-robed Wizard Kael," the Nazgûl spoke, his voice like the grinding of tombstones, "entering the Unseen Realm today is absolutely the biggest mistake of your miserable life!"
Each word seemed to leech warmth from the air, and frost began forming on the stones around them.
"The Unseen Realm is my domain, mortal fool. Your pitiful magic poses no threat here where I am king of shadows. If Angmar couldn't make you a servant, then let me claim you as my prize. I'm sure our master will be very pleased with this gift!"
Khamûl looked utterly confident of victory, his tone dripping with smug anticipation as he savored his opponent's apparent helplessness.
Khamûl was second only to the Witch-king of Angmar among the nine Nazgûl, called the "Shadow of the East," "Second Chief," and "Black Easterling" by those who feared to speak his true name.
His power among the nine Nazgûl was also second only to the Witch-king's terrible might.
In the real world, Nazgûl Khamûl would still fear Kael's proven abilities, but in the Unseen Realm, this twilight domain that belonged to the servants of darkness, he could not only wield his full supernatural power but also command every Unseen being within his influence, making him essentially an uncrowned king of the dead.
This was why the Nazgûl radiated such supreme confidence, why his laughter echoed like breaking glass through the gray realm.
And as the Nazgûl had boasted, the spirits around him that had originally feared Eärendil's Light lost even their basic survival instincts under his dominating will, rushing madly toward Kael in waves of grasping claws and gnashing teeth.
Even under the starlight's illumination, though the spirits slowly melted and weakened like snow in sunlight, they showed no fear as they pressed closer to Kael, sacrificing themselves in desperate attempts to reach his life force.
The Eärendil's Light that had originally given Kael peace of mind began to shrink and dim under these spirits' suicidal attacks, its protective sphere contracting with each wave of assault.
Kael's pupils contracted as his expression grew heavy with the weight of realization.
If these spirits continued their relentless assault like this, Eärendil's Light might be completely exhausted, leaving him defenseless in this realm of hungry shadows.
After all, Eärendil's Light was a consumable resource, not an inexhaustible wellspring of power.
The only thing that gave Kael some measure of comfort was that Flammifer still worked in the Unseen Realm, its blessed flames cutting through spiritual essence like a hot knife through butter.
As he continuously slashed with precise, economical movements, the surrounding spirits dissipated and crumbled into wisps of gray nothing.
But there were simply too many spirits surrounding him on all sides, an endless tide of the damned. He couldn't cut through them all, not before his strength failed or his light died.
More importantly, Nazgûl Khamûl was still watching menacingly from his position of safety, patient as a spider in its web.
The Nazgûl was cunning and experienced in battle, also wary of Eärendil's Light despite his boasting, so he didn't attack directly with his full power. Instead he remained in place, content to use attrition tactics, employing the surrounding spirits as expendable cannon fodder to exhaust the holy light in Kael's hands.
Then Kael would be meat on the chopping block, ready for manipulation or even transformation into another servant of the Shadow.
Meanwhile, Khamûl kept shooting cold arrows for sneak attacks, each one aimed with supernatural precision. If they hit their mark, like the Witch-king's Morgul blade, the arrow's poison would quickly transform the victim into a spirit under his absolute control.
Kael deflected another of Khamûl's Morgul arrows with Flammifer, the impact sending vibrations up his arm.
The intensive training from Ellohir and Elrohir, plus the beneficial effects of Ent-draught and the enhancement from the Crown of Wisdom on his head, gave Kael reflexes that bordered on precognitive. He successfully deflected the supernatural sneak attacks repeatedly, his blade dancing in precise arcs.
But Kael knew this wasn't a sustainable strategy. Watching the sand in his alchemical hourglass steadily diminishing, marking time until his body would be claimed by this realm, he began fighting while retreating toward the magical formation that was his only escape route.
Nazgûl Khamûl noticed Kael's tactical movement and immediately spurred his spectral mount forward, charging toward the formation with deadly intent. He threw a war hammer from horseback that whistled through the air, the massive weapon crashing toward Kael's formation with enough force to shatter stone, trying to destroy his only path back to the world of the living.
But the magical formation was exceptionally solid, its ancient elven craftsmanship holding true. The warhammer only created ripples of energy when it struck, failing to crack the protective barrier that separated the realms.
Seeing this futile display, Kael sneered with newfound confidence. "Idiot! This formation was established in the real world. How could you possibly destroy something anchored in the physical realm while you're trapped in the Unseen?"
Nazgûl Khamûl was stunned momentarily, his crimson eyes widening as understanding dawned, then he threw back his head and laughed with genuine appreciation. "Thanks for the reminder, fool! I almost forgot about my greatest advantage."
With those chilling words, he gradually became transparent and ethereal, his form shifting between dimensions, then directly materialized in the real world with a sound like tearing silk.
As servants bound to a Ring of Power, the Nazgûl could freely traverse between the real world and Unseen Realm without external aid or magical formations.
Once the Nazgûl appeared in the physical world, solid and terrible, he swung his war hammer with devastating force and smashed Kael's carefully drawn formation with one mighty blow.
The formation instantly shattered, ancient symbols scattering like broken glass, and the magic circle that had blocked spirits in the Unseen Realm completely lost its protective effect.
Nazgûl Khamûl could see into the Unseen Realm from his position in the real world, his voice carrying mockingly across dimensions. "Your formation is broken, mortal! You'll stay in the Unseen Realm forever, become a spirit, and be my eternal servant!"
"Idiot!" But Kael showed no worry whatsoever, his face full of mockery and derision that matched the Nazgûl's own confidence.
Without hesitation, he released the Morgul blade he'd been holding, letting it clatter to the gray ground. Instantly, the surrounding environment regained its vibrant color and solid substance.
He had returned to the real world, with only himself and the now stunned Nazgûl Khamûl standing among the ruins of Dol Guldur.
"Who said I needed the formation to leave the Unseen Realm?" Kael looked at the Nazgûl with cold, mocking triumph lighting his eyes.
He quickly raised his wand and cast with renewed power. "Expecto Patronus!"
The Ring of Power on his finger blazed with golden light, amplifying his magic beyond normal limits. A massive, dazzling owl Patronus erupted from his wand, its size comparable to Great Eagle Thorondor himself, turning the entire area into a bright white, holy domain that banished every shadow.
Without giving the Nazgûl a chance to escape back to his realm of shadows, the owl Patronus dove down with predatory grace and seized the Nazgûl in its luminous talons, swallowing him whole like a bird taking a serpent.
Looking at the struggling Nazgûl trapped inside the transparent Patronus's body, writhing like an insect in amber, Kael sneered with satisfaction.
"Nazgûl Khamûl," he said, returning the creature's earlier words with perfect, mocking precision, "entering the real world today is absolutely the biggest mistake of your existence!"
At the same time, Kael raised his star-glass vial, continuously pouring magical power into the sacred artifact. The previously dim Eärendil's Light became incredibly brilliant and dazzling, a miniature sun in his palm, releasing sacred radiance that scorched the Nazgûl like holy fire.
The Nazgûl let out painful, piercing screams that echoed across the ruins of Dol Guldur, his voice cracking with agony. Under Eärendil's purifying Light, his black cloak scattered like carbonized paper scraps caught in a furnace wind, and his withered, twisted body began peeling away layer by layer as if being slowly burned by invisible flames.
Seeing the Nazgûl growing progressively weaker, his form becoming translucent, Kael pulled out one of his Barrow-blade daggers and threw it like a dart with practiced precision.
This dagger was one of the four he had obtained from the ancient Barrow-downs, forged specifically to destroy the undead and far more effective against Nazgûl than any other magic or conventional weapons.
The enchanted blade struck true, directly piercing the Nazgûl's skull with a sound like breaking crystal.
Khamûl immediately suffered a critical blow, letting out piercing wails that seemed to tear the very air around them. His body rapidly twisted and collapsed like a deflating balloon, the malevolent energy that held him together finally unraveling.
Then he exploded directly, creating a massive shockwave that sent debris flying and left a crater in the ancient stones.
"Clang clang..." The echo of metal on stone rang out as the Nazgûl vanished completely, leaving only a single ring that rolled across the platform before coming to rest at Kael's feet, gleaming with dark promise.